


Clint Barton: Make Up Picasso

by sobefarrington



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobefarrington/pseuds/sobefarrington





	Clint Barton: Make Up Picasso

Clint was growing impatient. He’d been dressed and ready to go for more than twenty minutes and was now just waiting on Natasha.

Still waiting on Natasha.

The city was throwing a benefit for a local children’s charity, and the Avengers had been invited. Everyone agreed it was not only a good cause, but that they’d also enjoy a night out that didn’t involve killing evil beings from other worlds.

But Clint was tired of waiting.

They had both showered and chosen their clothes, or Natasha had chosen their clothes, and then she entered the bathroom, closed the door and was never heard from again. That was almost an hour ago.

Clint made his way back up the stairs and into their master bedroom. The ensuite bathroom door was still closed tight, the light escaping slowly from under the door.

“Come on babe, we’re gonna be late.”

There was a muttering that sounded as if she was dismissing him, telling him she’d be ready in a few minutes. Nothing he hadn’t heard before.

Clint closed the gap between him and the bathroom door, turning the handle and pushing the wooden barrier open slowly.

Natasha sat on a stool at the sink, facing the mirror. The counter was littered with products. Lipsticks, hairsprays, bobby pins, brushes and combs, eye shadows and foundation bottles. More products than he knew they even had. So many of them he knew she didn’t need.

Her hair was done, the redbrown locks tucked into position, her tiny, nimble fingers affixing the last bobby pin. Her face still fresh from the shower, her intension to paint it.  
Clogging her perfect pores with chemicals and colors. 

Clint stood in the doorway, head tilted to one side, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes darted to him and the half smiled he sported. She smiled back to him.

“What.” She half asked, curious to know what was on his mind.

He approached her, turning her around in her seat. She had a gorgeous face, anyone would have told her so. He didn’t understand why she had so many bottles of cover ups and pallets of shadows and blushes. She truly didn’t need any of them.

He took her face in his hands, caressing the soft pale skin. Her defined cheekbones, small rounded chin and full, pouty lips. 

She hummed at his touch, a reflex she’d never learned to control. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her eyebrows, smoothing the few rebellious hairs into place. He picked a tube of brown tint mascara from the collection of eye make up to his left as he asked her to open her eyes.

Natasha did as he bid and was comfortably relaxed as he slid the bristled brush over her lashes. Her right eye and then her left. She was patient as he looked for the eyeliner to match, framing her eyes in the same brown shade. He reached out again, finding a light shadow, whispering for her to close her lids as he recoiled back into position. He swiped the shade of Countryside Green across each of her lids in turn, applying a half amount of color.

She kept her eyes shut as Clint replaced his shadows and brushes and found a lip stain he liked. Her face relaxed at his touch, her lip popping open as he swept the stick of color across her bottom lip, flicking at and tracking the top right after. He followed it with a clear gloss, dabbing some into the palm of his left hand, using a finger on his right to apply it to her full lip, exadurating the pout to maximize its sexiness.

Clint stepped back to admire her face. She was beautiful. Unstoppable.

“Are you finished?” she asked him, feeling the time eclipse them and the silence growing long.

 

“Yeah baby.”  
Natasha turned to view her reflection. Her eyes lit up her face, her lips the perfect shade of pink to match her skin. She felt like a queen. If left to her own devices, she would have overdone it.

“You, my knight, are an artist.”

She rose from her seat, encroaching on his personal space, wrapping her arms around his center and cuddling in.

“What can I say, I have a beautiful canvas.”

Clint leaned in, lightly brushing his lips against hers, kissing her softly against the glow of their bathroom vanity.

“Car will be waiting.” She told him, trying to turn him towards their exit.

She released Clint from her clutches, a hand reaching back to pinch his butt as she sauntered out of the room.

He turned to watch her walk, curves slinking back and forth as she moved in her tiny black dress.

Clint followed Natasha down the stepped, gaining on her as he rushed towards the front door and the car that was indeed waiting for them. 

Clint allowed her passage through their home’s front door first, turning to lock the brownstone up before following her towards the Lincoln. He opened the door for her, set on getting the last pinch in, but Natasha turned around before he could get a hand on her, cupping his cock and balls, giving him a slow, gentle rub.

“Cool your jets Picasso. Save some of that ass for later.”

She released him, Clint gulping down the fire that rose in him. He straightened his tie and entered the town car, heart and mind set on getting a lap full of Natasha when the night was over.


End file.
